


Everything They Ever Wanted

by farkenshnoffingottom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Demon Blood Addiction, Demon!Dean, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farkenshnoffingottom/pseuds/farkenshnoffingottom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sam drinks Dean's blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything They Ever Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the season 9 finale, I really wanted to write this. But I don't really know if I like the way it turned out, so if any of you want to give it a shot, I would love it if you could send it to me or something! Prompt being basically: Sam falls off the wagon and sucks demon!dean's blood.

Ever since Dean turned into a demon, Sam has been tense around him. Now, this would be perfectly understandable, because, after all, Dean’s a _demon_. But Dean thinks it’s something more than just that.

They’ve been hunting, trying to act as if Dean’s still human, as if things are still normal. Dean’s actually been less violent lately, ironic though it is. But overall things are going okay in their lives. With the exception of random fits of stoicism from Sam.

The two are interviewing an old lady about the death of her neighbor. As Dean leans across the table to lay a hand on her arm, Sam gasps and turns his head away. Dean glances at Sam, confused at the sudden change. Sam remains tense through the entire interview.

“Dude. What’s up?” Dean asks as he slides into the Impala.

Sam slumps down in the passenger seat. “Nothing.” His voice is stony.  

“Come on. You are tense as Hell.” Sam clenches his jaw and turns to stare out the window. “Fine. Don’t tell me then.”

Dean pulls the car out of the lady’s driveway. Sam gets himself together for the rest of the day until their last stop. They are interviewing the dead girl’s boyfriend when he gets angry and punches Dean, shouting that Dean doesn’t actually care that she’s dead. Dean’s nose starts bleeding immediately. Dean hits the guy hard enough to knock him out and stomps to the car, expecting Sam to follow him, but he doesn’t.

“Come on, Sam. Hurry up,” Dean says, frustration apparent in his tone.

“No. Go ahead. I’ll try and talk to him when he wakes up.” Sam turns around and sits resolutely on the steps next to the suspect.

“What is your deal, man?” Dean asks, before shaking his head and getting in the Impala. “Sam,” he starts, leaning across to the open window. Sam doesn’t look at him. Dean sighs, cranks up his music, and drives away.

 

Sam gets back to the motel later with a bag of food (including pie) for Dean. They pass the evening peacefully enough. With minimal talking, anyway. Dean goes to bed before Sam. He doesn’t _need_ to sleep, strictly speaking, but old habits die hard.

_Dean’s running on a forest path, his dad right behind him, and his little brother clings onto his hand. There’s a light ahead of them, and they stop when they reach it. Dean smiles at the sight of the Impala. To him it means home. He reaches towards the handle, but can’t grab it. Sam won’t let go of his arm._

_“Sammy, what are you doing?” Dean whines, turning around to look at his brother._

_His brother is smiling, and he suddenly has a knife in his hand._

_Sam brings the knife to Dean’s arm, slicing across it in an arc._

_“Ow! Sammy, that hurts!” Dean shouts as the pressure on his arm increases._

“Ow! Sammy–“ Dean shouts again, trying to sit up in bed. “What?” he whispers, as he takes in the sight in front of him.

The bedside lamp is on. Sam’s sitting on Dean’s bed, straddling Dean’s legs. Sam’s knife lies on the floor, a thin coat of blood near the tip. And Sam.

Blood drips down Sam’s chin. Blood from the cut on the inside of Dean’s forearm.

“Sammy.” Sam backs away timidly, but his eyes flash with hunger. “Sammy,” Dean repeats, reaching his free hand out to grab onto Sam’s wrist.

Sam stops, leans back in.

“Do you like that I’m sucking your blood, Dean?” Sam asks, eyes flashing. “Do you like that your blood is pumping through me right now?” Sam leans in closer.  “Your demon blood?”

Dean grabs Sam’s neck, tugging him towards his arm.

“Do it,” Dean commands, voice deep and gravelly.

Sam obliges, puts his mouth back over the gash in Dean’s arm and sucks. He moans. He lifts his face and locks eyes with Dean. His smirk brings up the corners of his lips, and Dean can see the blood coating Sam’s teeth. Dean cannot help himself; he pulls Sam’s face to his and smashes their lips together. It’s passionate and violent and coppery. And it’s everything they could ever want.


End file.
